


Putting Together Lost Pieces

by em_roberta



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Backstory, F/M, Flashbacks, M/M, Redemption, Self-Discovery, Strike Team Delta, au: aou didn't happen, clint/bucky if you squint - maybe, natasha recruitment, steve/bucky is there if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/em_roberta/pseuds/em_roberta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of the Chitauri, no one has heard from Clint Barton since, and when the whole SHIELD falling thing happened, someone had to bring Barnes in... Except, Steve isn't actually the one who brings Bucky in; Clint volunteered himself because "he knows how to lure Soviet assassins with hot chocolate or cookies or something." Though soon it turns out that Clint himself may be needing some comfort food himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Putting Together Lost Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I started this way back when Winter Soldier first came out; way before Agents of SHIELD or Age of Ultron (which we should pretend never happened in this story, yeah?) Also, the beginning is a little bit rocky, but I promise, it gets so much better. 
> 
> Based on a headcanon I saw on Tumblr ages ago: Steve isn’t actually the one who brings Bucky in. While everyone’s busy after the fall of SHIELD, Clint’s wandering around Europe or something and finds him, and proceeds to lure him in with hot chocolate or cookies or something, since he has experience with Natasha. Who knew that soviet assassins were like cats? (Clint did.) They spend a while wandering around, blowing up Hydra bases before finally going and talking to Steve and Natasha, both of whom are amused but not really surprised.

 

“What do you mean you have a plan.” the voice on the other line asked skeptically.

“I mean,” Clint replied sighing and running a his free hand through his hair, “You can tell Rogers to freely go pick up the messes of fallen SHIELD.  Soviet assassins are like cats. They’re easy. You just lure them in with hot chocolate and cookies.”  

“Remember, we just want to talk to him. If he loses a single strand of hair, Cap may actually kill you.”

‘Don’t worry. I’ll bring him back with full use of his arms so he can sign your posters since you love him so much. I’m good at Soviet Assassins Recalibration.”  

“Clint…”

‘I mean, childhood hero and what not. Gorgeous hair and eyes. Amazing biceps. Great at hand to hand combat I’m guessing. Oh the sex!” Clint basically screamed into the phone.

“Barton!”

“Ooh, and guess what, world class top sniper too. Ooohhh, hot hot Russian sniper.” by this point he may have unconsciously leaped onto the edge of roof.

“Oh my god Clint. I’m hanging up. Because obviously, you have issues.”

“Fine. Go. I’ll go get your boyfriend back. Or is he Cap’s boyfriend. Oh what the hell, you two can share.”

“You have issues.”

There was a moment of silence before Natasha said, “I’m really hanging up now.”

Clint hesitated before saying, “I miss you.” and that was supposed to be it. The end of the phone call, but neither of them dared to hang up.

“Clint…” Natasha’s voice was now soft, and Clint knew what was coming, “we’re going to have to talk about it sooner or later.”

“Fuck… Tash…”

“No Clint. You’re not going to avoid the topic by swearing like a sailor and your false humour and stop grinning damn it! Damn it Clint!”

“NO TASH. NO. I AM FINE. I DON’T NEED THIS. I HAVE BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH PSYH EVALUATIONS AND I AM FINE. FUCK YOU.” he screamed, there was no reply, and for a fleeting moment, he thought Natasha did hang up on him, and maybe he finally went too far.

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“No stop-“

“I’m really sorry Clint. I wish I could be there, with you. But I can’t. You know that.” her sincere desperation was starting to come out and immediate Clint regretted what he said.

“Stop-“

“Forgive me.”

Silence. He didn’t know how to reply, finally messing up his hair once again and sighing, he replied, “I was never angry at you Tash.”

“You don’t have to do this Clint.” and for a second, he thought he heard what was Natasha’s begging, “He is dangerous and he may collapse back into a murder machine. There’s always another way- ”  

“No, I want to do this.”

“You don’t owe anything.”

“I need this.”

“Come back Clint.”

“I will be back.”

“I need you.”

“He needs this.”

“Stay safe.”

“всегда” he whispered and finally hung up.

This was the longest phone call he’s had with Natasha in a year; the rest were short texts and codes left behind. Only three week prior, had she texted him about the final fall of SHIELD and the good Captain’s reunion with his brainwashed lover. It five minutes after the texting ended that he realised what he had to do.

And it was this morning when he had a plan on how exactly to do it. Like he said, Soviet assassins are like cats; they like lasers and warm cookies.

For the past year, after tying up, sorta, the ends from the Battle of New York, he’s been travelling worldwide, doing odd jobs here and there for SHIELD and just generally running away from everything. But now, maybe he’s finally found a purpose.

“A giant metal arm with the tendency to bring terror wherever he goes? Couldn’t be so hard.” Clint muttered to himself before dozing down a handful of sleeping pills that’s probably not the best for him.

-

The next stop on his travel agenda, France.

Honestly, it was even easier than he had anticipated. He was in Marseille, enjoying some local cosines and the view, when he spotted a metal arm sitting on a roof nearby.

Okay, well it wasn’t technically, nearby. It was about a mile away, but the light shining into his sunglasses was very distracting. So the two of them sat there, for half the day (costing him quite a few cups of coffee,)  until the metal arm finally moved.  

Time for action.

He trailed Barnes all around France for two weeks; sitting there, tasting coffee and drawing sketches of the French life just like any other tourist would, and Barnes still hadn’t made a move on him. There was something seriously wrong with this guy.

“Master assassin my balls.” Clint muttered to himself on his third day into his second week, and he could have sworn that he spotted a smirk from the roof Barnes was sitting at.  It must a good sign that instead of jumping down and taking him out, Clint has sparked enough interest within him to have him want to find out who he is.

It was then when he realised how lost he must be feeling, and it was time to speed things up before he jumps off the roofs he’s constantly sitting at the edge of.

Maybe that’s how Natasha feels about him.

On the first day of his third week, he shone a laser five centimetres in front of Barnes, causing him to stand on guard for two full minutes before Clint resided back into being a gorgeous tourist.

On the second day, the laser moved up to his nose, lasting precisely one minute and fifteen seconds.

On the third day, Barnes was ready for the laser. Centre of forehead, fifteen seconds.

On the fourth day, Clint decided to leave him hanging, leaving a very confused and irritated Winter Soldier on the roof.

On the fifth day though, when he was expecting the laser to be somewhere on his face, he’d received an arrow a millimetre away from his leg.

On the sixth day, Clint let the arrow brush past his ears, pinning a note onto the wall behind him saying simply, “игра на”

By then, Clint has trailed him to a nice little town in Austria. It’s a very nice town. Mountains. A lake.  Friendly neighbourhood and the memory of blowing up three houses, forcing to eliminate the mark in the Church’s ledge and leaving a trail of blood as he and Natasha ran, or more like limped away from some very pissed off men.

That was also their third mission together, back when Natasha still needed a supervising agent on missions.  Those days seem like lifetimes away now.

It was when Barnes was sitting by another roof that Clint finally let him glimpse the ‘mysterious’ shooter finally.  That was when the tables turned. Barnes followed Clint and Clint was enjoying himself way too much. But he did wonder where Barnes was getting his income, Clint was still using his SHIELD credit card, since it isn’t defected and what’s there is there. Whoever’s in charge of paying his bills can keep doing that.

To Poland and Romania and Denmark and Hungary, and finally Clint stopping in Moscow. And he could have sworn he saw Barnes morse code him with, ‘Very tourist.” back in Denmark. Because of course, any professional would know that Moscow is definitely just to cover of Russia, but that didn’t stop Barnes from attending the big charity event held at the Winter Palace on Christmas eve.

Barnes basically dragged him. Constantly pulling out the event ‘invite’, visiting over ten tux shops, polishing his shoes over and over again. Practically inviting Clint to go as his plus one.  

Well they had to meet sometime.

Clint went to the drycleaners and, borrowed a very nice suit.  Applied for an invite under his old name that isn’t under SHIELD records. Constantin Tanner, son of Clifton Tanner, grandson of Caspia Tanner founder of the Tanner wines, and when his father finally dies of the tumour that’s been there for years, he will become the heir of that large amount of fortune. This all works out because damn, when you say something’s Finnish no one bothers double checking if it’s true.

Clint joined the party fifteen minutes after eight, got introduced to some people with power by someone who claimed they’re a good friend of his father’s. He spotted Barnes a few minutes after he started a light chit chat with the same person he met when he attended the same event fifteen years ago for a similar mission and hopefully, there wouldn’t be a tranquilised and very nearly dead important Russian figure lying on the roof, ready to start World War Three.

Half an hour later, Barnes had travelled up to the roof and invited Clint along, he spent no time waiting, though making a pit stop at the washroom getting his bow and arrow. He knew he should approach from the front, show that he is no threat, so that history wouldn’t repeat itself. But somehow, it was just too damn irresistible.

So being the amazing show off that he is, shooting a simple arrow through the right shoulder, is how Clint Barton ended up on the floor being squished by a metal arm and screamed at furiously in Russian, a bloody arrow lying within reachable distance.

“Fuck this memory lane” Clint muttered before stabbing the arrow painfully into Barnes’ leg.

“которые ебут ты" Barnes screamed as he limped back pulling out the arrow lodged into his leg.

“нет остановить его остановить напоминая мне” Clint screamed back as he stumbled up, Barnes shot three shots one narrowly missing his ear, one into his shoulder and one into his leg.

“Боже мой, я не могу поверить, что это происходит на самом деле” Clint shouted at Barnes, went over and stuck a tranquilising arrow down his neck, plus an added blow over the head for safety measures.

“Cognitive Recalibration, bitch.”

~

_**  
**_

_“Hawkeye. Report” Coulson’s voice rang through his ears._

_“Well now that the old pervert is lying on the ground slowly dying, I do have a clear shot.”_

_“Permission granted.”_

_And oh boy, did he shoot._

_In the years to come, Coulson would always say that Clint missed on purpose, that he turned soft at the last minute, but Clint swears that he aimed to kill but she just moved so suddenly. But everyone knows that what makes Hawkeye such a good marksman is his ability to calculate his target’s movements; where they’d be the moment the arrow lands, or bullet, depending on his mood._

__ _“приехать из,  приехать из, немного птица” Her voice was so soft, so unlike her when she stabbed that man five times in the thigh. Clint slipped down from where was he was positioned and stood right behind her. Next thing he knew, he was lying on the floor with her thighs around his neck, natural instincts called for him to stab an arrow into her thigh and that’s what he did._

_“кто ебать ты” she growled out this time._

_Clint slowly backed up against the roof ledge, his hands up in surrender, “Hawkeye, звезда шоу. And can we do this in English please. I’m still learning my Russian.”_

_“Of course, let’s make this all about your comfort,” she muttered from down on the floor with blood gushing out of her shoulder and thigh._

_“Look I’m really sorry-“_

_“Sorry that you still use medieval weapons or sorry that you’re going to kill me.”_

_Clint paused for a moment before sighing, which was his mistake. He lunged just in time the blade narrowly missing his head, his hands moving automatically preparing another arrow. A blade lodges itself into his shoulder just as the arrow lands into her side. She grunts as the tranquilliser injects itself._

_“Oh my god are you okay. I’m sorry.” Clint gasps as he rushes to her side._

_“There are no time for sorrys, honey.” she grunts just as she slams another blade into his thigh._

_“Where the fuck are you getting these!”  he ducks only in time to avoid being stabbed through the throat. Then he stabs her with another tranquillising arrow. “You’re wearing a strapless for fucks’ sakes!”_

__ _As she wobbled up and dragged Clint along with her, she pushed him against the ledge of the roof.  This made him laugh, out loud which was his mistake and she stabbed another one into his side, “See we’ve got an ambitious one here. Sorry to tell you this honey, birds can fly.”_

_“Who. Are. You” she sneered peering at his face._

_“We can have this middle life crisis over a cup of coffee. Whaddaya say.” then he stabbed in another one into her arm. This one finally did it. Slowly pulling out all the blades lodged into him, he admired the handy work, must be expensive. The Swordsman would have approved._

__ _Clint stabbed in a last one just in case she wakes up at an inconvenient time._

_“Oh my god this is so illegal.” Clint muttered as he searched her over for any other hidden weapons. Two hollow diamond earrings containing enough cyanide to kill a herd of tigers. Five more blades and two handguns.  He debated leaving them on her so she wouldn’t feel violated when she wakes up because god knows what the people have done to her in the past, but getting stabbed repeatedly just really isn’t his thing._

_“Hawkeye. Report.”_

_“Well sir, you’re not gonna like this.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for any mistakes, but it was the best a teenage girl with google translate could do with such a complicated language. But as long as you get the general idea... 
> 
> 1) всегда - always  
> 2) игра началась - game on  
> 3) которые едут ты - who the fuck are you  
> 4) нет остановить его остановить напоминая мне - no, stop reminding me  
> 5) Боже мой, я не могу поверить, что это происходит на самом деле - oh my god, i can't believe this is actually happening  
> 6) приехать из, приехать из, немного птица - come out, come out, little bird  
> 7) кто ехать ты- who the fuck are you  
> 8) звезда шоу - star of the show


End file.
